


The Door

by thelordvoldemort



Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-06
Updated: 2014-09-06
Packaged: 2018-02-16 08:28:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,455
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2262798
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thelordvoldemort/pseuds/thelordvoldemort
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Rory can't sleep, he likes to explore new rooms on the TARDIS. One night he stumbles upon a door that should have been locked.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Door

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own Doctor Who or its characters. All mistakes are my own. It's 4 am and I feel like crap and decided to attempt deflating some of my writer's block just a wee bit.

There are halls he has yet to walk, doorknobs he has yet to turn, and rooms he has yet to enter. On nights he can’t sleep, or days he simply feels like having time to himself, Rory Williams tries to wander around as many parts of the TARDIS unknown to him as he can. Tonight is one of those sleepless nights. It’s not that Rory’s having a bad night, he just isn’t as tired as his sleeping fiancé; the fiancé that has yet to decide when they’ll finally go back to Earth and get married. But that doesn’t bother him.

Yes it does.

But it doesn’t bother him as much as the fear that Amy might one day realize that she doesn’t want to marry him, that she would rather travel the stars with the Doctor and the Doctor would more than gladly let her. But what would never happen.

Right?

Amy loves Rory and Rory only, of course. She has to. Not that he’s pressuring her to or tells her she has to love him. She just does. Amy Pond loves Rory Williams. And she’s going to marry him. Soon. One day. Eventually. Hopefully.

Fuck.

Just find a new, stupid door, he tells himself. And so he does. He’s come up short at a dead end with only one door in the entire hall. He’s never been down here and by the empty, dead silence of the corridor, one might think to feel uncomfortable.

So why does he feel a sad comfort?

He doesn’t know how he’s ended up here, and he doesn’t know why he hadn’t noticed the dead end until now. The hallway is long enough to run and get a fairly decent workout.

Why does he have the feeling to run in both directions at once?

Rory slowly walks towards the door until he’s standing directly in front of it. It’s a slick silver, looking like metal but feeling soft like silk. He’s found that most doors look and feel differently depending on the room behind it but he’s never seen or felt a door like this before in the TARDIS.

Soft silk. Probably a room of calm or intimacy, though by the metallic look, Rory thinks it to be more an intimacy of security rather than something sexual. Or so he hopes.

He could turn back. A voice in his head tells him he should. Another voice tells him to stop being a pussy and get in there. Blimey, he can be a right prat to himself when he can’t sleep. Maybe this hall is empty for a reason. Maybe the door’s locked. Rory’s found that some are, although most of them will open if you jiggle the doorknob enough. Except that one door he swears is made of real gold with engravings of exotic flowers and vines centering a red rose. There’s circles enraged on that doorknob and it won’t even budge in the slightest, no matter how hard Rory tries. The doorknob on the silky door has similar circles on it. 

He tries turning it, anyways, and it opens.

Whatever Rory could have ever possibly expected to find, it couldn’t have ever been anything close to this. The entire room- walls, ceiling, floor- was glossed over like glass, giving a crystal clear view to swirling, colorful gases and stars. A nebula, Rory guesses. Letting out a breathy ‘wow,’ he stands in the doorway, admiring the view, looking over every corner of the room until he spots the Doctor. His back is to him, his feet shoulder length apart, head turned down, torso bent, and arms resting on what looks to be a… 

That can’t be a crib.

Slowly, so not to spook the Doctor, Rory makes his way to stand next to him. Bloody fuck, it is a crib. The Doctor’s eyes are closed and his hands are clasped together. He doesn’t move or open his eyes as he speaks.

“You shouldn’t have be able to get into this room,” he whispers.

“Door was unlocked,” Rory supplies, lamely.

The Doctor doesn’t respond.

“So,” Rory shifts his weight awkwardly from foot to foot. “A crib and a nebula.”

“Rosette,” the Doctor says so quietly, Rory barely registers that he’s spoken.

“What?”

“A crib and the Rosette nebula. She said it was cheesy and cliche,” his voice only grows quieter the more that he talks. “She loved it, anyways. And I’m sure..”

As the Doctor drifts off, the room is met with silence once again.

No. 

Wait.

There’s a faint melody playing through the room. It’s gentle and discrete, but it’s there. Rory finds it’s rather soothing, even as the lack of conversation drags on for minutes. Maybe minutes. Probably minutes. It feels like it’s been minutes. It also feels like Rory has fallen asleep. But he hasn’t.

Has he?

“We thought… But then she wasn-,” the Doctor goes quiet for a few heartbeats. “And then I lost her and five she said, but she.. It wasn’t..”

Rory’s no idiot but he’s still have difficulties trying to process the situation. And then he sees the Doctor’s thumbs stroking something in his cupped hands.

“What’s that?”

“A memory of something that never was. Not for me. Not this me at least,” the last sentence was mumbled under the Doctor’s breath and Rory figured it best not to ask.

“What is this room?” he could already guess the answer.

“It was supposed to be a nursery,” the Doctor practically sounds like he’s choking and it makes Rory somewhat afraid to ask his next question.

He asks, anyways.

“Who was it supposed to be for?”

The Doctor drags a long, deep breath in through his nose as he opens his eyes and looks at his hands. He swallows once, twice, before responding.

“We were going to call her Nell,” his voice wavers but Rory makes no comment towards it.

“Nice name,” he says, instead.

“Rose’s idea,” the Doctor whispers, a smile ghosting his face.

Ah. The mother- would have been mother, he reminds himself. That would explain the nebula choice. It’s then that Rory understands the sad comfort he felt earlier. And the intimacy, though not entirely.

“What happened to ‘mister no domestics?’”

Chuckling softly, the Doctor runs his thumbs along the opening of what Rory now realizes is a velvet box. And it’s no ordinary box.

“You were going to marry her,” it’s not a question.

“Made the ring before we even thought..” he clears his throat. “Never found the right time to ask, and then this and then..” he finally opens the box and Rory can’t help but leer over the ring. “I encased a burnt up sun, just about to die. It.. There was a story behind why..” the Doctor scrubs a hand down his face before continuing. “Months later, I found out how that sun burned up.”

The band was pure gold, like that door that never opens (and now Rory thinks he might know why) and the encased sun is in what looks to be a clear cut diamond, or maybe glass (probably something similar but alien), with dark amber, brown, orange, yellow, black, and other colors admitting different shines based on the angle he looked at it. It was more gorgeous than any stone or eye he had ever seen.

The Doctor lets out a sarcastic, maybe even bitter, laugh, “I was going to give her a ring with a sun I burnt up to tell her goodbye after I lost her and I never knew. I never stood a chance.”

By the look on the Doctor’s face, Rory assumed he’d either vomit, cry, or spit before breaking out in a rampage. But then the melody that had been playing in the background changed to something much softer, slower.. sadder. 

It was played on piano.

Taking another deep breath, the Doctor closed his eyes and the box, tapping out the notes on the box with his fingers. Watching the change in the Doctor made Rory feel like an intruder, and not wanting to break whatever spell the Doctor was under, Rory silently left the room, closing the door behind him.

Rory had seen the Doctor sad and broken before. He'd seen his mood change in the blank of an eye; his mumbling and stumbling over words was nothing new, but this was. Rory couldn't even begin to imagine the lose of a lover or even a child and he hoped he never would.

He walked a few corridors before finally reaching the door to his and Amy’s room. Once inside, he slowly climbed into bed behind Amy and wrapped his arms around her, spooning her. Rory placed a kiss on her shoulder before letting himself fall asleep.


End file.
